Raising the Bar
by Weavillain
Summary: Clyde is brought down to Earth with Lynn's sound advice on matters of the heart and the body. (Two-shot)
1. Chapter 1

It wasn't often that Clyde had an ulterior motive for going over Lincoln's house (at least, a motive that _wasn't_ about trying to get physically close to Lori), but today was an exception. While his best friend was known as "The Man with the Plan", that didn't mean that he was incapable of cooking up a scheme or two on his own. Such a scheme (that was just about as good as foolproof, as far as he was concerned) had come to him the night before, and as he quickly made his way down the Loud house's stairs, he couldn't help but smirk from how easily everything was coming into place for him.

For the past hour or so, he and Lincoln had been hanging out in Lincoln's bedroom reading comics. Then, just as he had anticipated, Lucy had popped up out of nowhere and asked Lincoln if he could look over her limerick to see if he could give her some pointers on how she could improve it. Well, he wasn't expecting _Lucy_ , per se, but he could always count on one of Lincoln's younger sisters barging in on them to ask their big brother to help them with something.

Though Lincoln was somewhat reluctant to accept Lucy's request, he ultimately gave in and asked Clyde to give him a few minutes while he helped her out. _That_ was when Clyde had made his move. Under the pretense of having to use the bathroom, he excused himself from the bedroom after telling Lincoln to take as much time as he needed with Lucy. Now that Clyde had two excuses to be away from Lincoln (his "bathroom emergency" and Lucy's plea), he could move on to the next step without having to worry about Lincoln looking for him for a while.

And with every second counting, he couldn't afford to waste any time.

* * *

To his delight, Clyde found that the basement was empty by the time he came down. As par the course for any "evil" plot that was within reach of being complete, Clyde played the role of the mustache-twirling villain by chuckling and rubbing his hands together.

' _Good,'_ he thought as he surveyed his surroundings. _'Now, where is that..._ _aha_ _!'_

There it was, lying in the corner—the ticket to sweet paradise. Before yesterday, Clyde never found the bench press to be anything but a waste of time. But after mulling over all the benefits that it could afford him towards achieving his ultimate objective, he was surprised that he had been so blind to its worth all this time.

Lately, it dawned on him that winning Lori's heart was a bit harder than he understood. He knew that Lori appreciated him as a person, but he didn't have the physicality to match his charm. As long as he had spindly, wimpy muscles, Lori would (at best) think he was just a cute little kid.

But after a few months of pushing himself to the limit with a bench press? Why, he was certain that he'd have to buy new clothes with the way his bulging biceps would tear through his shirts like tissue paper. And that didn't even take into account how Lori would undoubtedly _love_ his new physique. His latest daydreams had him flexing his arms while Lori watched him with hearts in her eyes while she swooned and fanned her flushed face with her hand.

Of course, Clyde knew that having strong legs would help him too, but he felt it would be best to break down his bodybuilding plan one step at a time—leg day would simply have to wait for _another_ day. Besides, he felt like having swole arms would be more than enough for now, anyway.

Once he approached the machine, he got to work on setting up the bare barbell that was racked over the inclined bench. Behind the machine was a shelf racked with weights that were obviously supposed to be centered at each end of the bar and then secured in place with the large metal clasps that presently resided on the weight-racked shelf. Clyde figured he could handle around forty pounds of weight, meaning that all he had to do was take care of two twenty pound weights.

After he got a good grip on one of the weights, he hoisted it up to his chest without much of a problem. He felt his arms shake a bit and a slight burning tingle snake into his lower back, but he was otherwise moving the weight towards the bar with minimal strain on his muscles. As he did so, he could only reflect on why he had to move about in stealth to begin with.

The first reason were his parents. They had their own gym equipment in their basement but they forbid him from working out on it until he got older. Like most of their decisions concerning his safety, Clyde chalked up their wariness with their overprotective tendencies.

The last reason was mostly on him, but he couldn't help but imagine that Lincoln would probably underestimate his abilities, too. He figured that, just like his dads, he would probably only be advising caution for his own good.

Or at least, for what he _thought_ was his own good. It only took him a minute to get the weights locked into place, something that he imagined that his dads and Lincoln thought he wouldn't be able to handle without throwing his back out or worse.

' _I'll show them,'_ Clyde thought with a determined look as he laid down on the bench and gripped his hands around the bar.

Phooey to their misgivings! He was sure he could bang out two sets of five reps, no sweat!

…

Okay, maybe a _little_ sweat, but that only meant that he was giving it his all. What was wrong with that?

' _Alright, McBride. Time to make those gains: the bod of a god and the heart of a goddess!'_


	2. Chapter 2

Clyde had often heard about stories of feats of amazing valor, where extreme circumstances would pump a person full of adrenaline and courage to do the impossible. Whether it was a mother flipping a car over to save their child pinned beneath it or someone diving headfirst into shark-infested waters to rescue a loved one without thinking about it, there were enough stories of similar wonder to give credence to idea of being able to pull off just about anything for the sake of a good cause.

…

So why wasn't it working for _him_?!

He didn't know how much time had passed since he first started trying to push the barbell off its rack, but his body was crying out for sweet relief at this point. His shoulders were caked with fatigue, thin beads of sweat had dripped down his face and blotted into the collar of his shirt, his arms were wobbly and achy, and the flesh of his palms—which were still wrapped around the bar—were marred with swollen, red-hot blisters that flared with fiery cramps every time he tried to lift it up.

With another throaty grunt, Clyde squeezed his eyes shut and summoned another burst of waning strength through his weary limbs as he pushed against the barbell.

' _C'mon, you stupid thing! Push up! Push uuuuuuuup!'_

But alas, his mental coaching couldn't motivate his noodle arms into doing anything but budge against the unyielding metal in vain. What was once frustration at the bench press machine quickly turned into frustration towards _himself_. After all the scheming and determination, _this_ was gonna be all he had to offer? How was Lori supposed to look at him like a man if he couldn't even move a paltry forty pounds a few inches into the air? How could he ever-

' _Hello...'_

Whatever it was about his self-deprecation seemed to do the trick—in an _instant_ , no less. Before he could berate himself further, as if his sheer will suddenly took the reins, the barbell lifted off the rack and hovered an inch over his chest.

Clyde's eyes burst open, along with a grin that replaced his once defeated frown. "Yes! I did it! The power of love prevails! The power of love pre..."

Clyde was forced to stop his sentence when his eyes finally caught up with what—or rather _who—_ was standing over him and looking down at him with a stern glare. What's more, his immediate observations let him understand, much to his shame, how the miracle of him lifting the barbell _actually_ took place. Though he was mostly focused on the eyes that peered down at him, he could just make out a pair of hands that gripped the barbell right next to his.

He didn't have the time to ask how Lynn had been able to sneak up on without him noticing. He had better things to do with his time, like trying to waltz his way into Lynn's good graces after it was painfully obvious she wasn't pleased with him in the slightest.

"Uhhhhhhhhh...hey, Lynn," Clyde said with a weak smile on his face. "How's it goin'?"

...

"So, uh, you look lovely today. I mean, not as lovely as _Lori_ , but-"

"Clyde?"

The firm reply, along with the slanted downward crease of her eyebrows, made Clyde gulp. "Yes?"

"What're you doing?"

"G-giving you a compliment?"

Lynn shook her head, her ponytail swishing in the back of her head. "No. I mean, what're you doing using my weight equipment without asking me if it was okay?"

The awareness of Lynn's annoyance stung him like a punch to the gut. He assumed the equipment was free to anyone who wanted to use it. But he had no reason to believe, other than brief but friendly associations with her in the past, that Lynn would let him off scot-free with that excuse.

Clyde coughed, nervous sweat dotting across his forehead. "Well, uh, I-I was jus-"

"See, I'll tell you what you _weren't_ doing," Lynn interrupted as she set the barbell back on its rack as Clyde held onto it, "and that was coming anywhere _close_ to pulling off a rep. You're lucky I came down here to get my jump rope. Otherwise, you would've never pushed that weight without my help."

Clyde's uneasiness was quickly forgotten at what he felt was a jab at his masculinity, whether Lynn was being intentional or not.

"Hey!" Clyde cried, shooting Lynn a glower. "I was close!"

The worth of his indignation meant nothing to Lynn, who cracked a smirk and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to demean you and the, what, millimeter's worth of progress you made?"

Clyde had been prepared to feel the burn of exercise, but the only burning he could feel was through the scorching blush in his cheeks. Reflexive or not, his reply was downright embarrassing—admitting his weakness would've been much preferable to being so delusional and defensive.

Meanwhile, the merriment on Lynn's face sloughed away, and a dirty look took its place.

"Now then, back to my previous question. Barring the fact that you were using my bench press machine without asking me for permission first, what the heck do you think you're going to accomplish using it?"

Clyde sighed, knowing that his embarrassment wasn't going to buy him out of recounting his clumsy, misguided effort.

"I just wanted to get stronger arms," he said, shifting his arms slightly for emphasis. "As you can see, they could use a little pumping up."

Lynn raised an eyebrow as she folded her arms. "Okaaaaaaay. Now for a follow-up question. _Why_?"

Clyde's gaze momentarily shifted away to the floor before he looked back at Lynn. "To...to impress Lori."

He felt another wave of humiliation slap him across the face as Lynn pinched the bridge of her nose and grumbled under her breath before muttering exasperatedly, "Figures. It's _always_ wooing my sister with you, isn't it?"

Clyde made a move to get off the bench and leave the basement (after apologizing to Lynn, of course), but Lynn apparently had more to say to him—she splayed a hand across his chest and pushed him down.

"Nuh-uh. You're staying put," she said. "I'm going to demonstrate everything wrong with this visual, besides the fact that you were trying to lift weights that you can't handle."

Clyde groaned. He almost felt like Lynn was trying to make a show out of pointing out how incompetent he had been. Was any of this _really_ necessary?

"First of all," Lynn said with her fists on her hips, "why are you even bothering with a bench press in the first place? Since you obviously want bigger biceps, the bench press isn't going to help you. It's an upper body exercise, sure, but it targets your triceps, shoulders, and chest."

Lynn walked over to his lower body, where his legs were laid across the bench.

"Second, what're you doing with your legs?" Grabbing one of his legs, Lynn shifted them off the bench until his foot rested on the floor. She did the same with the other. "There. _That's_ where they're supposed to be."

After that, she pointed at his arms, which still panged with aches as he held on to the barbell.

"Third, the barbell is _way_ too high. Your elbows are hardly bent at all. The point of a bench press is to push the bar off the rack; you can't really do that if your arms are completely straightened."

By now, Clyde was surprised with himself. It may have helped that Lynn wasn't dressing him down with condescension in her tone, but he still couldn't shake the feeling of feeling richly informed with how much he was learning. Being so painfully out of his depth wasn't the best feeling in the world, but at least Lynn wasn't making him feel like an idiot over it.

"Fourth—and this is the most important point—if you're going to use my bench press without asking me if it's okay, could you at _least_ get yourself a spotter so you don't wind up getting hurt?"

Clyde blinked. "A...spotter?"

"Yeah," Lynn said with a nod. "They're people who support weightlifters by watching over them and making sure they don't injure themselves when they're trying to lift, especially when it's with more weight than they can normally handle. Even _I_ don't go on my bench press without someone spotting me."

Sensing that her instruction was over, Clyde made himself more comfortable by slipping from underneath the barbell and sitting up on the bench.

"So, what've we learned today?" Lynn asked.

"What _not_ to do when trying to bench press," Clyde said.

"And?"

"Not to use someone's equipment without asking for permission. Sorry about doing that, by the way."

Lynn smiled. "Apology accepted. And, hey, it's good to know that you tooktwo important things from this. But there's something _else_ you need to learn too."

Clyde was at a loss. He tried to rack his brain for something else that he was supposed to pick up on, but he was certain that he had all his bases covered.

That was, until he remembered her reaction when he admitted why he was down here in the first place.

"It's about Lori, isn't it?" Clyde asked with a sigh.

"Bingo," Lynn said. "Look, I'm sure my brother's already told you this, like, a bajillion times already, but it bears repeating."

Lynn grabbed him by the shoulders, as if to give him some semblance of comfort before she delivered a piece of bad news. Clyde knew what to expect, but that didn't help it hurt any less when she told him, with _far_ less tact than Lincoln ever did, "Lori. Will. Never. Love. You. You hear me? _Never_."

Clyde cringed and found himself going on the defensive once again, even if doing so had no merit. "But-"

"But _nothing._ She loves Bobby, he loves her. Nothing you can say or do will ever change that. _I_ should know; Luan and I spied on them during their first date. Based off of _that_ , it's obvious that they'll never break up for good. Give it five years and they'll be happily married—the white picket fence, two children, a dog...the whole nine yards."

And there it was again. Even with his eyes on the prize, deep down, Clyde knew that Lynn had a point. Still, the slim chances of success had made him believe that it was worth at least giving it a shot.

"And besides," Lynn continued, "if you think that your plan had any shot at working, doesn't that mean that you don't think highly of Lori?"

Clyde shrunk back. Out of everything that Lynn could've followed up with, that took him for a loop.

"What?" he asked. "What'd you mean?"

"What I mean is, if all you think it takes for Lori to fall at your feet are big muscles, then that must mean that you think she'll throw herself at any guy with a bulging six pack."

At the sound of her accusation, Clyde reeled back from the shock, almost to the point where he tipped over and fell off the bench.

"No!" he cried. "Of course not! I'd _never_ think of her as shallow as that!"

Lynn gave him a pointed look. "Hey, that didn't stop you from thinking your plan would work in the first place."

Clyde squirmed. "Well, I...I...what I mean i-is..."

What did he mean? Or better yet, what could he possibly have meant that would make anything about his actions right? Once again, Lynn had put up a mirror in front of him and forced him to look at the unpleasant reflection. Only this time, it was _much_ worse. He could live with being looked down upon as a clueless kid without a chance at winning Lori's heart—after all, it wasn't like the people who said that weren't in the ballpark.

But demeaning her by implying that she'd abandon her morals just for some muscles? That was a hard pill to swallow, especially since he always felt like he appreciated her. How could he say that in the face of the cold, hard truth?

"No. No, I didn't," Clyde said as he slumped forward and rested his head in his hands.

He barely got a second to lament—a swift but gentle jab in the shoulder from Lynn forced him to look up at her.

"Hey," she said softly. "Look, enough moping. It's not like you _meant_ to think of Lori like that. I just wanted you to realize that it was wrong. You don't have to beat yourself up over it. Just be glad that I came down here to set you straight _and_ prevent you from getting flattened like a pancake."

Although he didn't feel his spirits lifted entirely from Lynn's little speech, he had to admit that the visual of him _literally_ getting flattened like a pancake was pretty funny.

"Thanks," Clyde said with a smile.

Lynn gave him on of her own. "Don't mention it."

But once more, before Clyde could go on his way and leave Lynn to exercise in peace, he wound up stopping in his tracks when she had further thoughts to convey to him.

"But you know, I have to give you credit for something," she said.

"About what?" he asked.

"I have to admire your hustle. I mean, sure, you were going about it completely wrong, but at least you gave it your all."

Clyde felt a twinge of pride from that remark, even if it came at the cost of having to be reminded about how much of a hapless amateur he had acted like earlier.

"And you know what? It'd be a waste for you to just give all of that up just because you can't have Lori."

Even after everything Lynn had just told him, Clyde still didn't have any idea what she had in mind—there had to be more to this than simple flattery.

"What're you getting at?" he asked.

"Well, it all depends on what _you_ want, Clyde," Lynn replied before she pointed at him. "Do you want to get bigger and stronger?"

Clyde rubbed his chin in thought, not exactly sure how to feel about the matter. Being brought down to Earth did take a lot of wind of his sails, leaving him without much motivation to pursue the endgame of getting in better shape.

"Well, I wouldn't _hate_ it," Clyde finally said, "but I don't think it's something that I'd go out of my way to do."

Lynn, for whatever reason, just smiled and shook her head at him.

"Aw, that's because you weren't having fun," she said. "There's no point of exercising if you can't get a little enjoyment out of what you're doing. That's why, even _if_ Lori would be into you because of your body, you'd be miserable all the time because you'd have to work yourself to the bone trying to maintain the only thing that'd keep her around."

Clyde couldn't help but be impressed. "Wow."

"What?" Lynn asked.

It was just then that Clyde realized that what he was about to say might come off as belittlement, so he tried to get his message across with as best as he could.

"I mean no offense, but I didn't take you as someone who knew so much about...y'know, love. This is just like listening to Dr. Lopez."

Lynn preened. "Hey, there's more to me than just sports, you know. Plus, it kinda helps that I watch a lot of _Dream_ _Boat_. Anyway, like I said before, I don't think you should let that fire of yours go to waste."

Before Clyde knew it, Lynn walked over to him, took a seat next to him, and drew her arm around his shoulders.

"So then, how's about, any chance you get, you come by here and I'll help you get bigger and stronger _without_ torturing yourself?" Lynn offered.

"Really?" Clyde asked. You'd do that for me?"

"Sure!" Lynn said. "I can always do my brother's friend a solid, especially when it comes to being fit!"

Clyde didn't know whether to chalk it up to Lynn's enthusiasm being infectious or him simply finding her proposal exciting on his own, but he was pumped! With a star athlete like Lynn in his corner, the possibilities were endless!

"Oh, and Clyde?"

"Yeah?"

"Once we're through with you, not only will you get in better shape, but a lot of girls are gonna have their eye on you as a result."

The giddiness on Clyde's face disappeared as he looked at her in disbelief. Even if he should've known better than to not trust Lynn at this point, that didn't make his present confusion disappear

"But wait," Clyde replied, "didn't you tell me that it was wrong to think that Lori would fall for me just because I got bigger? Why're you saying that like it's a good thing?"

Lynn chuckled. "That's because you're looking at it differently than what I said. You were thinking that a buff body was the only thing that Lori would appreciate, as if she'd never think of you as a person first and foremost. What _I'm_ saying is that getting in shape is a good way to get your foot in the door; _big_ difference."

Ah, now _that_ made perfect sense. Clyde couldn't deny that, once again, Lynn had set him straight with good advice. He didn't know the first thing about having hordes of ladies eyeing him with appreciative glances, but he knew that even if he did, he couldn't imagine that it'd feel as great as having Lynn support him.

"Trust me, Clyde, that dream girl of yours is out there, someone who'll appreciate you for who you are on the inside _and_ the outside. Who knows? She could be just around the corner."

With that, Lynn got up and pulled Clyde to his feet. "Now, why don't I treat you to one of my signature protein shakes? You're gonna need it before we get you started on today's workout regimen."

"Alright. Sounds good to m-" Clyde's eyes burst open when Lynn's words caught up with him. "Wait, we're starting _today_?"

Lynn shrugged. "Why not? It's not like you got anything better to do today, right?"

He immediately thought back to Lincoln, who probably wasn't tied up with Lucy. Even if he wasn't, he was still looking forward to going back to his bedroom and pick up where he left off with that comic book reading.

"Well, actually," Clyde said. I was going to go and-"

"Good!" Lynn interrupted, grabbing Clyde by the hand and racing off towards the staircase.

Any objections to Lynn's assertiveness died when he heard her laughter, the manic edge to it doing nothing to quell discomfort. If anything, he was surprisingly put at ease by it. He was heading off towards uncharted territory, but he had nothing to fret over as long as Lynn was there to lead him by the hand (figuratively and literally).

"You better not quit on me, Clyde," Lynn said as they reached the top, "because I'm not gonna give up on you!"

* * *

Clyde was relieved when Lincoln was not only none the wiser to what he had been up to, but was a-okay with him hanging out with Lynn for the rest of the day. Presently, he was standing in the living room, looking towards the entryway to the dining room while waiting for Lynn to come back from the kitchen with that protein shake.

Whether she meant it or not, she had kept in the dark by not telling him what they were going to be doing. But a few minutes later, that issue was remedied when Lynn returned.

And all he had to do was wait for her to come around the corner.


End file.
